So Happy I Could Die
by Saw You Twice at the Pop Show
Summary: "For she hath blessed and attractive eyes. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears. If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers. No, no, I am as ugly as a bear; for beasts that meet me run away for fear," St. Faberry, R R.
1. Chapter 1

**So Happy I Could Die**

**A St. Faberry Fic**

_Okay, sorry it was such a long wait for this. I just got the idea last night. Listen to Lady Gaga's 'So Happy I Could Die' when you read this for the full experience. Also on the playlist for this fic: 'Teeth' by Gaga, 'All These Things That I've Done' by The Killers, 'Title and Registration' by Death Cab For Cutie, and 'You Can't Be Missed If You Never Go Away' by Cobra Starship. _

Quinn Fabray was slightly confused as to why she had chosen to come to a party, where there would definitely be alcohol and unsupervised minors, but disregarded the thought. She was single now, however unwillingly, and she danced with the other seekers of comfort in the darkened living room of some big house on the east side of Lima.

She was a senior- she was supposed to be winning Homecoming Queen with her perfect football boyfriend. Instead, she was walking through a strange house to get to the kitchen to get a glass of water. It had to just be her luck that the kitchen was occupied. Dark, wavy brown hair and thick bangs, and a girl with glossy tanned skin who rested her elbows and forearms on the kitchen counter next to the sink, a half-empty bottle of red wine in one hand.

Her dark eyes were looking out the window, seemingly contemplating the moon, and her legs looked longer than should be possible with her three-inch heels and the tiny miniskirt that had a high waist and was a bunch of rows of bead strands, glittering subtly even in the darkness of the room. Rachel Berry took another sip of her wine.

And there he was, black leather jacket and dark clothes paired with his messy curly hair, for once without a smirk plastered on his face. He had a highball glass in his hand, amber liquid swirling inside, and she was reminded of nights where her mother and father would get so drunk she'd eventually hide the last of whatever they were drinking so they'd just go to bed.

"Why did you even bother coming back?" Rachel's voice broke the almost eerie silence. Jesse St. James turned his head, looking not at her but at Quinn, hidden in the shadows. His face betrayed no surprise.

"I want you too much, Rachel," He chose to reply. She laughed bitterly, drinking again.

"I want _everything _too much." And then she turned around, looking first at Jesse, then to where he was looking at Quinn.

"Hello, there," Jesse mused, nodding to the Cheerio. Rachel leaned her back against the counter, just watching the blonde, and Jesse took a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket, lighting one in his lips.

"Deplorable habit," Rachel commented. "It'll ruin your voice, you realize." Her large eyes never left the other girl.

"I only smoke one a week." He replied. "Two, if it's been a bad one," He smirked then, and even though Quinn didn't know him very well, it seemed rather forced.

"Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly," He murmured to her, gesturing for her to walk inside. She did so, slightly wide-eyed, and shut the door behind her.

"_For she hath blessed and attractive eyes. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears. If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers. No, no, I am as ugly as a bear; for beasts that meet me run away for fear," _Rachel recited in a low whisper, keeping her gaze leveled on the cerulean one before her. The phrase confused Quinn deeply, while at the same time striking a cord deep inside her mind.

"You know, Quinn, we've all got something in common, here in this fine room," Jesse began, leaning in conspiratorially. "We've all been screwed over by Shelby Corcoran, more or less. She left before Nationals- if we had lost, I would have lost my scholarship. I lost it anyways- you see, it was all hinged upon her letter of recommendation, and a follow-up interview. She left, and didn't give that follow-up. So, I lost my full ride to UCLA.

"And Rachel, poor Rachel, she got replaced by a newborn baby girl in her birth mother's heart. Because Shelby was too selfish and brought Rachel to her just to push her away after barely a week. And you," Jesse stopped for a moment, moving his gaze up and down both girls. Quinn half-wished she'd worn her Cheerios uniform- it made her feel safe. Here, in a demure white dress and thin black sweater, she felt exposed and vulnerable against his eyes that seemed to peer right through all defenses and see the scared girl inside.

"Shelby Corcoran took advantage of you and your situation and took your daughter. She adopted Beth and just took off, into the wind." By now, Jesse had walked up to her and put a hand on her waist. He guided her over, like it was a dream, to where Rachel stood. "And we're all just so damn broken now,"

And then, for no reason that Quinn could discern, the blonde found herself leaning forward to kiss Rachel Berry. The brunette just kissed back, fiercely, and walked her over to the wall, pressing her firmly to it without breaking their kiss. Jesse came up to stand behind Rachel and Quinn moaned when she felt tiny hands tug the skirt of her virginal white dress up so they could deftly tug down the white cotton underwear they found there.

Rachel breathily moaned into their kiss and broke it, closing her eyes. Quinn glanced down and saw Jesse's left hand had plunged down the front of the brunette's now-unzipped skirt and his free hand trailed up her own side, under her dress, to rest on her lower back, pushing her pelvis against Rachel's until she could feel the outline of his wrist against her abdomen through both of their skirts.

And then her eyes shot upwards as she felt two delicate fingers press up into her. She thrashed her head back and forth, and Jesse leaned forward to kiss her. He was a good kisser, and she tasted the bite of nicotine on his lips. The fingers inside of her were thrusting and twisting and pressing and she whimpered, a soft burning sensation filling her. She could barely remember ever feeling this before, since the first and last time she'd had sex she'd been drunk. And this was different, besides- two pairs of hands on her, Rachel's mouth on her neck and Jesse's locked with her own, two sets of moans and whispers and breath.

The fingers inside of her speed up, one more comes into play, and then all of it combined -Jesse's kissing, Rachel's fingers and her mouth on Quinn's throat, the heavy bass beat that ricochets through her frame from the floor and the wall, and the solid feeling of that same wall and the two bodies pressing her to it- makes her just let. Go.

She cries out into the kiss, Jesse breaks away and Rachel kisses her again before she kind of freezes against Quinn and lets out a kind of scream-moan and leans her head back and while Quinn shakes with pleasure, she watches the two people responsible for that pleasure kissing deeply, the fingers inside of her still moving, though with a less-consistent pace. She realizes that the entire time, she'd felt rocking against her and she still feels it- Rachel's been grinding back against Jesse to bring him to his own finish.

And now they're both shaking along with her and the moment is heady and warm and Quinn's never felt so… whole in her entire life. And then the door slides open and she gasps, terrified someone will find them in this state. Smoothly, before anyone could have a chance to see anyone, Rachel whirls around to kiss Jesse full on, dropping Quinn's skirt right back into place and effectively shielding the blonde with their bodies in the semi-darkness as some drunken partygoer gets a bottle of Heineken from the fridge and stumbles back out, closing the door again.

The two break the kiss, both breathing slow and deep and two sets of dark eyes alighting on her again. Rachel smiles a strange smile at Quinn, and they just stand there in silence that should be awkward but isn't, not touching each other. Jesse kisses them both with a dark kind of passion that makes Quinn tremble, whispering 'adieu, Quinn' in her ear with a kind of indescribable emotion in his deep voice before he takes his leave.

Rachel stands with Quinn, zipping her shimmering skirt again, retucking her black camisole into it, and then as she leaves, she speaks again in verse, _what wicked and dissembling glass of mine made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne? _before wishing Quinn a good night and leaving, red wine abandoned on the stainless steel island.

Quinn takes a hold of the drink, musing on taking a sip, before smiling. In her rushing, wonderful post-coital high, she smiles and lets the neck of the bottle slip from her pale fingers. It crashes on the floor, shattering, and she pauses to take a last look at the moon through the kitchen window before she leaves, blue eyes dark in her face.

_I was thinking about maybe expanding this into a multi-chaptered fic, because I think that more can be said about this subject. _


	2. Chapter 2

**The Guilty Ones**

**Part 2 of So Happy I Could Die**

When they come back from Winter Break, Rachel Berry is not there. First, Quinn thinks the girl is sick or maybe skipping. Then a week goes by and Mr. Schuester informs them that Rachel has withdrawn from McKinley High. Mercedes says some nasty things about her turning traitor and going to Vocal Adrenaline, but then their Spanish teacher/Glee director explains that Rachel's moved out of state. Alone. Her Fathers have allowed her to go to New York City.

A month later, the word comes- Rachel Berry is starring on Broadway, in a musical called Spring Awakening. If that doesn't cause a stir within their club, the news of her male lead does. Jesse St. James and Rachel Berry are playing Melchior Gabor and Wendla Bergman in this so-called new musical and Quinn spends about two hours just staring at the promotional pictures. A girl, laying on her back, with a boy over her, the tops of their faces cut off by the photograph.

But Quinn knows those legs, sheathed in stockings, and she knows those shoulders. She's gripped those shoulders and felt those legs pressed against hers and seen them every day, barely hidden by short skirts and knee socks. And for the first time in a long time, Quinn Fabray feels very lonely. She finds herself missing being pregnant, even. Not the stares or the ridicule, but the sensations of another life moving inside of her, the feeling of never being alone.

At night, her body aches for touch and she tries to alleviate the hollowness with her own delicate fingers but it's never enough. She gets her release, but it seems pathetic compared to the way she shook against the wall of some random kitchen with those two solid bodies against her own. And she's always left still _wanting. _She dreams of them, of the kitchen, and of being in different situations like it.

She makes it until Spring Break.

It is then, in April, that she convinces her mother to let her drive up to New York City for the week, citing that she needs a change in scenery. The woman goes along with the idea, grateful that she won't have to look cheerful and refrain from drinking at 7:00 in the morning for a whole week.

So she drives her little blue car all the way up to the big Apple. The first night, she checks herself into the hotel. The next, she puts on a pretty dress and a light cardigan sweater and takes pains with her makeup and hair. She wears pretty underwear, though she doesn't let herself hope that she will even speak to them.

She watches the play. When Jesse and Rachel move together on stage, Rachel's breasts and Jesse's smooth back and rear make Quinn squirm slightly. But, beyond that, she finds herself absorbed in the performance, crying at the end even though she feels silly for doing so. And then it happens. As they take their bows, those two dark eyes fall upon hers again and _Jesse leaned forward to kiss her. He was a good kisser, and she tasted the bite of nicotine on his lips. The fingers inside of her were thrusting and twisting and pressing and she whimpered, a soft burning sensation filling her s_he gasps slightly, memories making her thighs quiver slightly.

Later, they find her in the lobby. They don't say a word, but they smile at her in greeting and Rachel's fingers subtly entwine with hers when they get out onto the sidewalk. Jesse hails a cab, they all squeeze into the backseat and Rachel murmurs and address to the cabbie. They pull up in front of a large apartment building on the good side of town and they walk pass the kindly-looking doorman who doffs his cap at Rachel and greets them warmly.

They get into the elevator, and they are its only passengers. As soon as the metal doors slid closed, they are a mess of kisses and touches. They touch her like she is made of spun glass, like she will break if they are too rough, but with each other they grope almost ruthlessly, moving perfectly in sync as they kiss and slide one hand each over Quinn's slender waist and then they pull away, two sets of mouths on the blonde's throat, nipping and sucking and teasing and she is moaning and gasping.

They are inside a spacious apartment without her really being aware of how it happens, and she is being led to a bedroom with a large bed draped in warm earth tones. Her sweater is gently taken off, and they take their time with the zipper on her dress. Her back hits the mattress and she is almost delirious with pleasure as she watches them undress each other, revealing black silk boxer shorts and a deep blue lace set of underclothes.

Dark eyes fall upon her and her pale skin and white, lace-trimmed bra and panties and she shivers. "Please…" She begins, her voice hoarse, speaking the first words of the evening. "Just… _touch me…" _She doesn't know what possesses her to say these words, but touch has never seemed so imperative and she's never felt like she would spontaneously combust if she didn't have it.

They are on her in a second like lightning, Rachel's mouth on hers and she revels in the rose-petal softness before she cries out into the kiss when she feels that first hot breath through her panties, right against the little bundle of nerves. Rachel whispers soothing words and takes off the Cheerio's bra, caressing and kneading the flesh revealed.

Jesse gently slides her underwear down her legs, the scraping of the lace against her skin making her tremble, and then he's between her thighs again, and his tongue presses against her and she lets out a loud moan. She's slightly embarrassed by it, but Rachel's eyes darken even further and the brunette leans in to kiss her jaw.

"_Quinn_," Rachel moans deeply. And then, unlike before, Quinn tentatively reaches out and slides her warm hands over the satin of the other girl's hips, down to the blue panties, and she tugs at them, sliding them down and timidly letting her fingers touch the other girl's warmth. She's wet, and Jesse is watching now from where he's working Quinn into a frenzy, and when she slides two fingers up into the singer, the girl jerks and throws her head back. "_Ohh…" _

And then Quinn cries out, too, arching her back, as she feels Jesse suddenly thrust his tongue and she falls apart. He's there in an instant, taking over with Rachel and still laying reverent kisses over Quinn's throat and breasts. The blonde shudders and watches Jesse and Rachel. They are so beautiful, pressed together desperately as they are, panting and moaning and Rachel struggles to pull Jesse's boxers off, keening something that Quinn doesn't understand, as it's in Hebrew, or Yiddish, she thinks.

Jesse sits back on his heels, pulling Rachel to him, and she watches as Rachel sinks down onto him, her large eyes going wide and then shutting tight. And then, two hands, two piano player hands, reach out to entangle with hers as they rock to their release. And they don't last long, falling boneless next to Quinn. Rachel is on one side of Jesse, Quinn on the other, and he holds them both to his chest, which rises and falls rapidly.

Quinn doesn't even realize that she falls asleep minutes later, swathed in their arms and under the covers. When she opens her eyes, it's two in the morning and Jesse is at the window, smoking a cigarette again. It's been three hours since she'd fallen asleep, and Rachel is still slumbering next to her. "Jesse," It's the first time she's ever said his name in his presence and he kind of smiles at how wonderful it sounds. He puts out his cigarette, closing the window, and walks over to the bed.

"Quinn," He returns, and then Quinn scoots over to his side. He's still naked and so is she and even though they've barely spoken a dozen words to each other that weren't in the throes of passion and this is the second time they've had a threesome, it's not awkward. It's warm and his arms and his body are muscular and lean. Not bulky like Puck or too-toned like Sam or non-muscled like Finn. Jesse is just muscled lightly all over and his voice makes her shiver.

Without her having to ask, he speaks again. "I don't know why we… it's just… well, you're in the same boat as us, as we said before. And… you're just so… you're much too desirable for your own good," He sounds a thousand years old as he continues. "And Rachel and I have been known for wanting things too much. And we want you, and we want each other, and I know that it's probably more than a little confusing but I don't know how to explain to you what I feel."

And then, they lay back down and Rachel's awake now, too, and she doesn't know how but she's speaking then in a whisper. She tells them all about how her parents are lushes and how she's been taught that being popular is everything. She tells them about her first time, with Puck, and how disgusted with herself she'd been.

She tells about how she was so mad at everything and disdainful of the child growing inside of her until the day that her secret fell apart and that same day, she felt her child, her daughter, kick for the first time. She tells them everything, and when it's over they hold her and they all fall asleep again.

In the morning, she smells coffee and food. She gets up, slipping on a tee shirt and shorts that Rachel had laid out for her, and goes to the bathroom. And there's an unopened tooth brush on the sink along with a brand-new hairbrush and new bottles of shampoo and conditioner, the good kind that smelled like crisp apples. She looks at the simple toiletries that were obviously picked out with care, and she feels like they weren't recent purchases.

She brushes her teeth and showers and then goes out into the kitchen where Rachel and Jesse are sitting at the table. Rachel is eating some pears and apples and Jesse is flipping through a copy of the _Times_ while munching on a bagel. They look up as she enters and they both smile. "Good morning, Quinn. I made bagels and I have fruit and cereal and soy milk." Rachel informs her, and once again, she's struck by a scene that should be awkward but isn't.

And they fall into a pattern like that. Quinn falls in love with the City over the next few days, and at night they fall into bed, and they get up and eat breakfast and repeat. The apartment feels more like home than her huge house on the East Side of Lima and it's like she's living in some sort of wonderful dream.

But then, it's Saturday night and she realizes she has to leave in the morning. She cries into Rachel's hair, trying not to let them see, but they do anyways and Jesse rubs her back in slow circles as she breathes in the warm vanilla scent of the singer's long brown tresses and rests her face in the crook of her neck.

And she has to drive away from New York City the next morning, practically leaving her heart-blood on the road beneath her.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Scene Is Dead; Long Live The Scene  
Part Three of So Happy I Could Die**

Quinn goes back to school feeling strange to herself. She's downloaded the entire Spring Awakening soundtrack to her iPod and that first Monday night, she gets a call on her cell phone. It's Rachel and Jesse, and they are in intermission at the theater. She almost cries with happiness, though they have to hang up in five minutes.

At school, she's the unstoppable Quinn Fabray, Head Cheerio. There's snow on the ground, though, so they can't practice on the football field. They are in the gymnasium every day from 3:30 to 5:30, and on Sundays they have almost all-day practices. They're two weeks off from Nationals, and a month until graduation, when it happens.

She's on the top of the pyramid, her rightful place, and just as she raises her arms into a 'V', she feels the girl below her wobble. Just a bit, but it's enough. Quinn falls, forward instead of backwards, and she's unconscious the second she hits the polished wooden floors.

It's a very curious thing, actually. She feels like she's treading ice-cold water that sometimes turns lukewarm, but its only warm around certain parts of her body- her leg, the back of her head, her wrist. And then she feels the knives that are stabbing and the teeth that are biting and the claws that are snatching and her mouth has been duct-taped shut and she's watching everything through the dark, cold water that makes everything distorted and red.

Finally, when she breaks the water (she's never been a particularly good swimmer) everything is still slightly red-tinted, but that's just because of the blood dried on her lashes and she's on a gurney, looking up into a blinding overhead light while a bunch of different, rubbery hands are on her.

And then the pain becomes more real and her mouth isn't duct-taped shut anymore. She screams, her breathing coming so much faster, and then there's a tiny pinprick of pain through the unbearable other pain and she's not screaming anymore because she's waking up in another room. She blinks her eyes open, and sees her leg in a thick cast.

Her left wrist is encased in plaster, too, and her head aches dully through a haze of what she can only assume is morphine. It's not as effective as her epidural had been, but it still numbs the pain to make it bearable. There's a little mirror mounted on the wall across from her and her face is bruised- her nose a tiny bit swollen, her lip busted, and one eye blackened.

And her hair… she doesn't know why, but the formerly waist-length locks are cut until they barely stretch past her shoulders. She looks too-pale under the florescent lights, and she forces herself to stop looking at the broken body of the girl in the mirror. And then the door slides open and a few people come in. Her mom, Coach Sylvester, and a woman in a white lab coat.

"Oh, Quinnie!" Her mom sobs out, not daring to touch the girl lest she injure her even more.

"I'm fine, Mom…" Quinn tries to say, and her voice is slow and her words slurred.

"That was quite a fall you took, Miss Fabray. Three girls high, with nothing to cushion your fall. You've broken your left leg in two places, and your left wrist has been fractured in three separate places. Additionally, you received a head injury and had to have fifteen stitches. There were some complications, mostly due to the concussion caused by the fall, but you should be fully healed in three months."

Her mom is blubbering and Coach Sylvester just comments that she's sorry to lose Quinn before Nationals, and the Cheerio who was responsible for the accident has been kicked off the team. The doctor leaves them, and after a while Quinn feigns sleep so that they will go away. She misses Rachel and Jesse, more than ever.

Three days later, Mercedes visits with a big bouquet of flowers in her hands. They're pretty daisies, and she's grateful. The dark-skinned girl also has an array of different candies, explaining that since she's not a Cheerio anymore, she doesn't have to drink the 'protein' shakes and watch everything she eats.

Taking a deep breath, Quinn makes a decision. "Mercedes…" She begins, not knowing what to say next. "I need you to do something for me. And please, just… don't ask me why, okay?" The girl nods slowly, her eyebrows furrowed.

"What is it, Quinn?"

"I need you to call Rachel Berry and tell her I'm hurt. Please. Please, Mercedes." Her best friend looks completely shocked and confused.

"Rachel? Why the hell do you want to talk to diva bitch?"

"Please. You said you wouldn't ask. Please." Quinn begs, her voice breaking slightly on the last word. The girl nods slowly. "I'll call her tonight, okay, Quinn? I don't have cell service in the hospital." Quinn smiles gratefully and takes the other girl's hand. "Thank you so much, Mercedes."

When Rachel and Jesse appear almost magically in her hospital room, they look exhausted and road-worn. But their dark eyes are bright with relief when they land on the blonde girl in the bed. Jesse has two duffel bags slung over his shoulders and Rachel is clutching a big Tupperware box chock full of sugar cookies. They drop their things on the plastic chair in the corner and come over to her. Rachel touches the cast and the bandages on her head with tender care, smoothing a dirty strand of golden hair away from the battered face.

Jesse touches her shorter hair and says that it makes her look more sophisticated. He pronounces it to be lovely in such a mock-grave manner that she laughs, for the first time in days. Rachel is fretting, explaining that she baked cookies whilst they waited for a flight out and that she brought Quinn an extra toothbrush and then she kisses Quinn. It's the roughest kiss she's ever gotten from either of them, and then Quinn realizes how scared Rachel was.

She's happier with them in the room, though she tells her mother that they're just friends from school. The blonde woman nods, secretly glad she no longer has to keep coming to the hospital. She doesn't like hospitals. She's always reluctant to go to them- if Quinn was injured as a child, she almost never took her to the doctor if it could possibly be tended to at home.

When Quinn goes home a few days later, she doesn't return to school. Rachel and Jesse stay with her, lazing about in her bed with her, bodies overlapping on the double bed, languidly touching her in all the right places. They make attempting to shower with her bulky casts into an enjoyable -and erotic- experience.

Jesse holds her body aloft outside of the shower, always claiming that she shouldn't wear any clothes during this part so they don't get splashed with water, though she knows that's not the real cause, and Rachel stands in the shower stall, also conveniently unclothed, to work the shampoo gently into Quinn's hair, avoiding the tender stitches. And then Jesse and Rachel busy themselves with toweling her dry and wrapping her in her pink terrycloth robe and kissing every inch of her they can reach.

It's too good to last though, and they are called back to the City two weeks after they arrive and Quinn has to return to school in a wheelchair. There's only a week left of school, and she has to sit for her exams. Unsurprisingly, she passes them all with flying colors. Via text message, she learns that Rachel passed all of her home-school final exams as well. She gets her leg cast off in the first week of July, and spends most of the rest of the month toning her body back into the shape it had been before her accident.

It's the very last few days of July that she gets the letter. In the mailbox, a big manila envelope from NYU. She'd sent in her application to the Journalism program, and here it was. Without delay, she ripped open the envelope and stared at the letter.

_ Dear Ms. Fabray,_

_ We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to New York University for the school year of 2012-13… _

Quinn let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, rereading that first line over and over again. She was in. She was going to New York City next month.

She didn't think she'd ever been simultaneously so excited and terrified in her entire life.

**Kay, so I'd like you all to review and tell me what you think. Also, the playlist for this was:**

The Scene Is Dead; Long Live The Scene by Cobra Starship

**Innocence by the Airborne Toxic Event**

**Hey Jude by Jim Sturgess**

**The Song of Purple Summer from Spring Awakening  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Soul Meets Body**

**Part Four of So Happy I Could Die**

Quinn's last day in Lima is a sunny Tuesday morning. She wakes up smiling, sitting up slowly and taking her time getting out of bed. She stretches languidly, noting how the slim straps of her camisole make her shoulders look extra delicate. She looks around, smiling, at the packed-up moving boxes and her tote bag and the outfit she'd laid out the night before, strewn about the light-stained hardwood floors.

She took a shower in the hall bathroom instead of her own, because the light there seeped in from a window and because the stall was bigger, more spacious. She was happy, not a bit scared, and after her shower she carried her boxes downstairs and out to the curb by her car. "Here, let me help you with that," A familiar voice said. Quinn turned fast and looked wide-eyed at the tall, boyish young man before her.

"Thank you, Finn," She managed, and he smiled awkwardly before picking up two of the boxes and packing them into the backseat of her MINI. It took him five minutes to have everything in the car and she turned to him, looking up at her ex-boyfriend with a small, calm smile.

"So, I heard you were going to New York," She nodded.

"Yeah, I got accepted to NYU,"

"That's great, Quinn. Really. I'm going to junior college for a year, y'know, get my grades up,"

"I hope everything works out for you, Finn," And with that, she waved and slid into her car. He was left standing on the sidewalk in front of her old house, watching the girl he'd loved before drive off to her new life where he had no role to play.

Quinn arrived in New York City ten and a half long hours later. It was almost midnight, and she parked in the parking garage across the street from their apartment building. She carried her bag with her and stumbled exhaustedly across the street. The doorman recognized her and let her up; she walked into the same elevator they'd used the first time she'd been there, smiling sleepily at the memories that came rushing back. They were enough to wake her up more, and she padded down the hallway.

The door was wrenched open before the blonde had a chance to knock, and a nightgown-clad Rachel stood before her, beaming, her hair a mess around her face. Jesse was with her, shirtless and panting. "Quinn," Rachel said exultantly, reaching out and pulling Quinn to her by the waist, standing on her tiptoes to furiously crash her lips to the other girl's. "Welcome home," Rachel gasped before she latched greedily onto the taller girl's throat. Jesse was smiling, wrapping his arms around both and guiding them back into the bedroom. He pulled Rachel from Quinn, lifting the brunette into his arms. Her long, sleekly tanned legs wrapped around his hips and Quinn laid kisses against the delicate ridge of the top of her spine, closing her eyes and just reveling in the rightness of the moment.

She didn't think something that was called a sin could be so fulfilling. But dark eyes and two pairs of hands and lips and two sets of hips made her feel like she was _flying_. Rachel was on her feet again and had trapped Quinn playfully against Jesse's chest, holding the man's hips and pressing her body flush to the blonde's as she hummed thoughtfully in the girl's ear and let Jesse's hands wander between them.

In the morning, she woke to singing. Jesse was face down next to her, and Rachel was missing from bed. She got up, pulling on the closest garments from the floor- underwear from last night, and Rachel's dark blue nightdress. It's shorter on her than Rachel, barely brushing past the underwear, but she doesn't care. She followed the sound of the singing, finding Rachel in the kitchen cutting up slices of apples, pears, and oranges deftly.

Rachel Berry has always sounded like an angel and this morning is no different. It's a happy song, one Quinn recognizes, though she's never heard _Rachel _sing it. This was the number that Tina and Mercedes had the lead to after Sectionals, their junior year. Quinn can't remember the title or the artist, but she remembers the beat quite well.

She doesn't join in, just pulls one leg up under her to sit down on the kitchen table and listens drowsily to Rachel's powerful voice sing about being happy and being in love. She places the knife in the side of the sink that holds dirty dishes, and arranges the fruit on two plates. And then she whirls around and sees Quinn. She jumps a little, but then smiles and keeps singing, pausing only to press a warm kiss to Quinn's forehead.

Rachel's wearing proper clothes -jean shorts and a tank top- and Quinn wraps her arms around the girl's thighs, pulling her in close and resting her cheek on her stomach. "Hi," She whispers, and Rachel stops singing. "Hello," The brunette responds, and leans down to kiss the other.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, eating the fruit that Rachel had prepared, until they heard it. Jesse's voice, more incubus than angel, singing and the sound of water running. And then Rachel's eyes got dark and met Quinn's and she grinned deviously, taking hold of the blonde's hand and tugging her through the apartment, pausing in the bedroom to unbutton her shorts and whip her shirt up over her head, shimmying a bit so the cut-offs fell to the floor. Quinn followed her example, stripping off her clothes, too, and took Rachel's hand again.

"I'd like to see you have your way… come have your way with me! I'd like to see you have your way… come have your way with me…!" Jesse sang as the girls crept into the bathroom soundlessly. Rachel flung back the blue shower curtain and Jesse was waiting for them, casually lounging up against the tiled wall, arms folded across his chest. Quinn laughed and flung her arms around his waist, pressing her body to his side while Rachel got a positively evil look on her face, sinking slowly and sinuously to her knees before him.

Jesse convulsed, kissing Quinn hard, tensing up minutes later when Rachel pulled back with a wet-sounding pop, grinning big. "I win," She concluded, tugging on Quinn's hand so the other girl would join her on the shower floor.

**Oh my God, I'm so sorry that this is so late. I was having trouble with this chapter, but I've got the next planned out completely and I'm writing it out like right now. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Do The Panic  
Part Five of So Happy I Could Die**

The months pass by quickly. Quinn is absolutely, positively in love with NYU, with her Journalism classes, with New York City, and with Rachel and Jesse. She wakes up every morning to singing, either Jesse or Rachel, because they're early risers and it's just bliss to lay in the big, soft bed and hear them.

It's December 21st, and she and Rachel have taken advantage of Jesse's sleeping in late to go out and buy him another Christmas present. They find a deliciously soft sweater that will look perfect on his dancer's frame, a few records, and a new pair of sunglasses during their outing, and they stop to get lunch at a small vegan restaurant that Rachel loves.

Quinn looks languidly over her long-haired lover, taking in her yellow sweater and gray jacket and blue jeans and four-inch heels that put her a half inch taller than Quinn, in her flats. Rachel drinks Thai tea and wrinkles her nose a bit in delight at the taste. Quinn had anticipated this move, and by now Rachel's mannerisms are endearing and she's watching the other girl eat her food when she realizes that she wants to be like this forever.

She and Rachel walk back to the apartment, holding hands, and they're in front of their building when Quinn laughs and turns, taking hold of Rachel's jacket and tugging her forward for a kiss. It's the best kind of kiss, passionate and sweet and slow and easy. One of Rachel's hands rests against the side of Quinn's neck and she smells vanilla and peppermint and lemon and everything is just _Rachel _and it's blissful and perfect.

Quinn should have realized that she couldn't have been this lucky. She was still paying for her sins, and she shouldn't have believed that she could have such perfection without a price. Because perfection, she knows from experience, is hard to come by and more fragile and sweeter than spun sugar. A simple word can break it and turn it sour.

"Quinnie?" Her eyes fly open at the confused exclamation and she freezes, her stomach turning knots. She whirls around and there, dressed to the nines in a pearly pink sweater set, hair perfectly coiffed and nails matching her outfit and handbag, is Judy Fabray.

"Mom," She whispers, horrified. And then her mother is blubbering, shrieking about _how could Quinn do this to her? _And Rachel just stands there. She takes the insults being heaped onto her, right up until the word _faggot _leaves the woman's lips. And then Rachel draws up her fullest height, stepping out from behind Quinn, who is frozen with tears spilling down her cheeks, lips in a straight line and eyes burning with cool anger.

In no uncertain terms, Rachel dismisses Judy and frankly tells her that she is not welcome back unless given explicit consent from Quinn. Her tone is steely, the same one she used when telling April Rhodes off in the bathroom and when she got Sandy Ryerson fired. Her eyes are dark and chilly, practically turning the older woman into a shocked ice sculpture. She takes Quinn's hand and gently pulls her into the building, taking a moment to tell their doorman that he is not to allow the woman into the building. He nods solemnly and Rachel wraps an arm around the blonde girl's slim, frozen waist and guides her into the elevator.

Quinn doesn't speak; she's still silently crying and replaying the confrontation in her mind. Rachel brings her into the apartment, and Jesse is alarmed. She shakes her head silently in reply to his queries, putting Quinn into bed before she goes out into the living room to tell him what happened. In the back of her mind, Quinn can practically feel the stormy anger rolling off of Jesse and the icy fury from Rachel.

But for now, she's just concentrating on her breathing and not thinking about what just happened. She stops crying and drifts off into sleep, vaguely aware of what's going on around her. Jesse is smoothing back her hair, and Rachel and Jesse are redressing her in nightclothes before they lay down with her, their arms holding her and she falls into deeper sleep, hoping for oblivion.

The next morning is her last day of school before Christmas, and she gets up and gets dressed, insisting that she's fine to go to class to Rachel and Jesse. They have a show to do this afternoon, and then they're all on holiday.

Everything is normal until she gets to her last class of the day. It's three in the afternoon, and her investigative journalism Professor informs her that the Dean needs to see her. She's sitting there in a stiff, leather armchair, across from the calm woman, shocked into silence as the woman explains to her that her mother's lawyer had called the financial department, and demanded a full refund of Quinn's tuition money.

And now, if Quinn can't produce the money on her own, she will be officially withdrawn from NYU. Quinn gets a sinking feeling and goes to the nearest bank to check her balance. The teller informs her politely that all of her trust fund, _hundreds of thousands of dollars_, was taken out yesterday and Quinn hasn't got a penny to her name.

All she can think to do is to go back to the apartment and call her mother. A mechanical voice _politely _tells her that her number has been blocked and wishes her a good day. Quinn starts crying, shaking, awful sobs ripping through her chest and making her body convulse with the force of them, hands over her eyes and knees tucked up to her chest.

She feels like a little girl again, crying from a nightmare. She sits there in the kitchen, crying until she feels like she'll fall to pieces, when the front door opens and Rachel and Jesse appear, holding hands and radiant in that post-performance glow they get that Quinn normally can't tear her eyes from.

They kneel before her, dark eyes worried, and pull her hands from her face, begging her to tell them what's wrong. She shakes her head, but tells them anyway, choking out the story between shuddering sobs. And then Jesse holds her to him, tightly, and Rachel gets up and grabs her own phone.

The dark haired girl calls her father first, and then she calls their family lawyer. She explains the situation, voice straining to be calm, and then it rises in anger when she's told that there's not much that can be done. Quinn's never seen Rachel this angry as she paces then joins them on the floor again, phone left on the counter.

Rachel hums soothingly, rubbing Quinn's back, and Quinn just keeps crying into Jesse's chest. Jesse carries her into the bedroom, Rachel close on his heels, and Quinn just wants to forget everything. She doesn't want to remember. Her lips find Jesse's, kissing him roughly and practically ripping open the buttons on his shirt.

She doesn't look at Rachel as her hands run over the muscled chest before her, bruising the skin of his neck and ripping open his black jeans. She's shied away from having actual sex with Jesse, since the last time she had sex with a boy she ended up getting pregnant, but tonight she wants oblivion and she can't look at Rachel or she'll be reminded why her mother has cut her off financially and emotionally.

She shrugs off Rachel's feather-soft touch to her shoulder and rips at her own skirt, popping buttons and yanking off panties and Jesse is hesitant when she tries to pull him on top of her. Rachel is half-kneeling on the bed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, feeling the sting of rejection from Quinn, and watches as Jesse finally gives in. Rachel reaches him a condom from the bedside table and slips from the room silently, despite the plea in his eyes to stay.

Quinn's nails scrabble against his back and her teeth sink savagely into his neck, moaning and pulling and she keeps her eyes closed the whole time, trying to focus only on Jesse. He's very, very good at this and it's almost enough to make her forget. He's thrusting and his hand finds its way between them, fingers pressing to the little bundle of nerves and she stiffens against him, head falling back and eyes shooting open, a loud gasp falling from her lips.

Jesse follows her lead and moans her name into her neck, kissing softly and gently on the skin there. She wraps her arms around his waist when he lies with her again and he draws the blanket gently up over their sweat-drenched bodies. She drifts off to sleep and tries to quash the small, rational part of her that wants to feel Rachel at her back, the other girl's breath on her neck.

In the morning, the shower is running and Quinn is alone in bed. She gets up and patters over to peek into the bathroom. Rachel and Jesse are taking a shower and the brunette girl turns, smiling tentatively at her and she's about to open her mouth to ask her to join them when Quinn says that she's going to make breakfast, leaving the bathroom and wrapping up in one of the robes that hang from the back of their bedroom door.

There's already a plate of food on the table for her when she gets there. There's a sandwich, and Quinn's eyes go wide. Toast and turkey and cheddar, her favorite. She hadn't had it since she moved, because Rachel didn't like to have meat or dairy in the fridge. The sandwich, cut into the shape of a star, was accompanied by orange slices and a glass of apple juice. She sat down and ate, realizing she was hungrier than she thought. She turned to the counter, and there was another star-shaped sandwich.

A tear slid from her eye before she could stop it.

**Playlist:**

**Do The Panic- Phantom Planet  
Something New- Airborne Toxic Event  
Lightness- Death Cab For Cutie  
Whisper- A Fine Frenzy  
You Can't Be Missed If You Never Go Away- Cobra Starship  
All These Things I've Done-The Killers**


	6. Chapter 6

**You Will Leave a Mark  
Part Six of So Happy I Could Die**

Even though they don't have to pay rent because Rachel's dads spent the money they'd been saving for college funds to buy the apartment for Rachel, after Christmas Quinn starts applying for higher-end jobs while she works at a nearby coffee house. She leaves resumes at many newspapers and magazines and waits to hear replies.

In the meantime, she doesn't touch Rachel in bed and tries to avoid her at all costs. The brunette is understanding, almost infuriatingly so, and doesn't comment when Quinn pulls Jesse to her at night and keeps her hands and eyes to herself. Jesse takes it harder, and doesn't sleep very well. He takes care of Rachel, trying to focus his energies on giving Quinn what she needs but also giving Rachel enough affection for both him and the blonde.

He loves them both, and he is going to do his best to keep them all standing while Quinn has her little… big breakdown. He holds Quinn at night and lets her ignore Rachel, but he also holds Rachel's hand and takes comfort in the way she curls against his back under the sheets, her breath tickling his neck.

Quinn gets a job. A magazine editor was impressed with her resume and called her in for an interview. Rachel finds out and goes out and buys an absolutely _beautiful _dress with a matching black blazer and too-expensive heels, laying it out the morning of the interview before she and Jesse leave Quinn, sleeping, to go run rehearsals for their show in the afternoon.

Jesse sees the pains she's taking with trying to be supportive to Quinn and holds her for a long time in the hallway. Quinn sees the outfit, hung up on the door, as soon as she wakes and it feels like she's a little girl at Christmas again, waking up to presents. She cries a bit when she realizes it's from Rachel, who also made her a good breakfast and left a note -_Good luck today, Q. We love you. Rachel- _next to the plate.

And then she shakes herself, reminding herself that it's _Rachel's _fault she's not in school right now, that her mother has shut her out, and that she's going to have to find a job in the first place. The same rational bit of her mind from before is screaming that Rachel didn't do anything but love her, and she's doing all she can to make everything perfect for Quinn. But the denying, angry part of her that she recognizes from the first three years of high school tells her that Rachel Berry is the reason for all of her problems and she deserves whatever Quinn dishes out.

The interview goes off without a hitch, the editor complimenting her on her shoes, attitude, and the work she'd submitted in her resume. And then she's got a job at a fashion magazine. It's reasonably well-paying, with opportunities to advance. And she's going to be doing what she loves, writing.

Before, she'd have counted herself lucky if, after the birth of her daughter, she got to go live in Cleveland and get married and be a housewife. Now she was a businesswoman, a writer for a pretty major fashion magazine, and it was… surreal. Jesse swung her around in a circle, joyfully kissing her when she told them the news. Rachel was beaming, and she started forward to kiss Quinn- surely the girl wouldn't still be mad, now?

Quinn turned her head at the last minute so the other girl's lips fell on the far side of her cheek instead of her mouth. Rachel froze then, those doe eyes so big and shiny with unshed tears. Jesse froze, too, looking at them and wondering if everything was going to fall apart now. A single tear slid from Rachel's eyes and she shook her head slightly.

"Q-Quinn," She whispered, reaching out as if to touch the blonde but withdrawing like she'd been burned. And then she hurried out of the room, choking out a final congratulation. Jesse looked from where Rachel had fled the room to Quinn, trying to decide what to do. Quinn was standing there, and he recognized that look. He wasn't seeing his Quinn, he was looking at Quinn Fabray, head Cheerio.

And Rachel, he realized, was now Rachel Berry, school freak. He shook his head slightly and followed Rachel's example, going after one of the girls he loved and leaving the other standing in an empty room, looking like a princess.

Rachel was in the bedroom, fists clenched and tears running down her face in the light the full moon cast over the room. "I-I just…" She whispers when she sees Jesse. "I _get it. _She's doubting the whole _me_ aspect of the relationship and she's reverting back to what she knows… but Jesse… I just, I don't…" He is at her side in an instant, wrapping her in his arms.

"Shh… I know, Rach, I know… I know…" He coos in her ear while she sobs. Quinn, in the living room, hears every word and goes to the kitchen, digging around in the cabinet for a bottle of wine. Expertly, after years of seeing her parents do the same thing, she uncorks it and pours a glass immediately.

She's never been much of a drinker, after seeing what it had done to her mother and father. But tonight, she needs to forget and no amount of ignoring Rachel or touching Jesse is gonna do that for her. So Quinn Fabray takes long sips of her red wine, and she breathes. In and out, in and out. Sip, breathe. Sip, sip, sip, breathe.

Sleep.

**Hands Down- Dashboard Confessional  
You Will Leave A Mark- A Silent Film  
Bloodbuzz Ohio- National  
Belle of the Boulevard- Dashboard Confessional**

**Well, that was… interesting. Could you guys, maybe, review? I like reading them and stuff and so far I only have like twenty one. No pressure, I'm not gonna threaten to hold the next chapter hostage.**

**So, tell me what you think. Should I have an immediate reconciliation? Should Rachel get angry at Quinn? Even though I already have a plan, I like to hear your ideas. **

**Saw You Twice**


	7. Chapter 7

**Touch Me  
Part Seven of So Happy I Could Die**

Rachel was the sun, all made of passion and happiness and anger, and when she sang, it was like the world stopped for a while and listened. When she spoke, her voice rang with authority that she had given herself after hours of dance classes where her feet bled and vocal lessons where her throat ached and ached, she knew that she couldn't afford to play the naïve ingénue. She couldn't be nice, she couldn't let other people step on her toes. But at the same time, she opened her heart to Jesse when her brain was screaming at her that something wasn't right.

He couldn't understand how she could be so kind and forgiving but cold and calculating and ruthless. It was part of that dichotomy that first led him into her bed. It had been a warm summer day, rain falling down and making that delicious smell of earth and _damp _come into the air. And she had found him, half drunk on depression and whiskey at four in the afternoon in the park with an unlit cigarette dangling from his quivering lips.

Her tiny hand had taken his, and she'd put him into her Daddy's Prius and drove him to her house where she was alone, again. She always seemed to be home alone in that big house, isolated like a princess in a fairytale. So he followed her up to her tower and let her gently tug his wet shirt off of him and run her fingers soothingly through his curls.

His breath had caught, he remembered that clearly, and he was sobering up quickly. Quickly enough to realize that she was wearing a thin, short dress, one of the finger-slim straps slumping off of her tanned, thin shoulder and hair all askew around her face. And she'd never been so beautiful, so un-put-together that it made him ache for her.

He'd whispered to her -_why are you so beautiful?- _and her answering smile could have stopped hearts as she leaned down to where he was sitting on the edge of her bed, shirtless, and let her softer-than-silk lips tangle with his. He tugged her into his lap almost mindlessly, arching up and feeling her warmth even through the barrier of his jeans. She'd thrown her head back and gasped while he assaulted the virgin skin of her throat with lips and teeth and tongue.

She was so damn beautiful. He turned them so she was lying boneless on the bed and it wasn't until later that he wondered why her room wasn't a riot of Easter pinks and yellows but instead done up in calming shades of gray-blue and white. Right then, he was concerned with sweeping her dress over her head and gently sliding her sweet baby blue underwear from her hips, soothing the exposed skin with gentle kisses and soft caresses.

She was surprisingly quiet for the first few moments, and then she arched her back and moaned _so loudly. _It made him freeze for a second, before he realized she'd moaned out his name and was currently digging her fingernails into his lower back, trying to yank him towards her again.

Quinn was the moon, ever-changing and pale and perfect, though with mental scars from being a teenage mother, from having her father abandon her, from having her mother reject her, from being top dog for so long.

She was soft and hesitant with them at first, before all of this shit had started. She was pale and tiny under him on the bed sheets with Rachel crouching between them to kiss her, or touch her, or just whisper to her. And then, she was pulling her to him harshly and Rachel was slipping from the room like a ghost in a crypt.

Jesse's mother dies on a Wednesday. He gets the call from his uncle, right before he's supposed to leave the apartment to go the theatre. Rachel is probably already there, and Quinn is at work. He came home to get something. He can't even remember what it is, though, as he puts the phone down and sits against the wall, head in his hands.

His mother's face keeps coming into his mind, like some kind of slideshow. Her hair, curly and dark like his, her big brown eyes, filled with pride whenever she looked at him. Her greatest accomplishment, she'd always said. When he'd brought Rachel home for the first time, her eyes had shone even brighter and she had hugged the smaller girl with a wide smile.

When he'd called to tell her about Quinn, she'd just laughed quietly and told him that she knew that he and Rachel needed too much attention to be alone in this. That was her way of giving him her blessing. And now, now she wouldn't be giving any more blessings or hugs or pride-filled glances.

Now, she wouldn't be doing anything, ever again. And Jesse choked on a sob. He hated crying. He could count on his hands the number of times he'd cried in his life. But everything was different now, and he felt so sick. His back shook and tears streamed down his face. He'd never been a loud crier. It was mostly silent, except for the occasional shudder of a wet breath pulled in through chapping lips.

He missed the show. He sat against the wall in the living room for a few hours, and when the door opened, he knew it was Rachel. She never took her shoes off when she got home, heels always clacking against the hardwood floors. Quinn, no matter what, always slipped her shoes from her feet and set them under the table in the foyer where no one would trip over them.

There was a clang as Rachel dropped her keys into the hand-painted bowl and a soft whoosh as she dropped her coat onto the rack, and then she was hurrying through the apartment, stopping dead when she caught sight of Jesse. She dropped to her knees in front of him, taking his face into her hands, and forced him to look at her. His eyes were flat and red-rimmed.

"What's wrong? Jesse, you're scaring me," She pleaded, rubbing her thumbs over his temples gently.

"My mom," Was all he said, and then she was holding him to her chest gently, stroking her fingers through his hair.

"Oh, einayim sheli," She breathed, and he found himself crying again, hating himself for it. It was his job to be strong for her, especially while Quinn was going through all of this. But then he just let himself tuck his face away from the world and hide himself in his sunny girl's neck while she ran her hands through his hair and sang nonsense lullabies in his ear.

**Touch Me- Spring Awakening  
Wanderful- Jericho  
Ring of Fire- Jack Savoretti  
Tiny Vessels- Death Cab for Cutie  
One Day, Robots Will Cry- Cobra Starship  
Slow Down- The Academy Is…  
Almost Lover- A Fine Frenzy**

_einayim sheli- my eyes (kind of like, 'very precious') _


	8. Chapter 8

**We've Got A Big Mess On Our Hands  
Part Eight of So Happy I Could Die**

Rachel calls Jesse's Uncle Franz when Jesse calms down enough that she feels comfortable leaving him on the couch, staring desolately at the wall. She goes into the bedroom to do it, bending down absently to pick up some laundry and put it in the black wicker hamper in the corner of the room that neither Quinn nor Jesse ever seem to be able to use.

After a quick conversation, she surmises what happened. There was a car accident, Jesse's mother was hit head-on and died instantly. Franz tells her the date of the funeral. It's on Saturday, three days from now, and she nods though he can't see her. And then she offers her condolences. After she hangs up, she cries silently for a few minutes, remembering the chocolate haired woman that had so easily accepted her into the family.

The door opens and she wipes the tears hurriedly from her face. She's in the foyer as Quinn is taking off her slingbacks and sliding them under the buffet table, setting her keys down beside the bowl instead of on it and laying her coat on the back of the sleek black chair beside the door. The blonde girl, though avoiding Rachel like the plague, still widens her eyes when she sees Rachel's puffy, red-rimmed ones.

"What… what happened?" She asked, forcing her voice to sound flat, uncaring.

"Jesse's mother was in an accident." Now the mask slips from Quinn's face and she pales considerably.

"Oh, God." Her hand goes to clasp the golden cross at her throat, and she is struck by a wanting to take Rachel into her arms. But, no. She can't do that. So she hurries past her, into the living room, and goes to Jesse.

He looks up when she kneels down in front of him and she pulls his hands to her mouth, pressing kisses gently to their backs and skimming his knuckles over her cheeks. "I love you," She whispers then, and tries to ignore the way her eyes automatically flicker in Rachel's direction as if her body wants to include the other girl in the declaration, too.

He makes a soft strangled sound. And then he pulls her up, to his lap. "I want you." His voice is rough from tears and from lust, and she nods, sliding her hands down his chest. He shakes his head, one hand tangling in her hair almost roughly, nipping at her neck. "No, I want you… I want you both. Please." The raw hurt in his voice cuts at her defenses.

And _yes, please, Rachel, Jesse, want you both, want to touch, want to kiss, want to breathe again _her body and her heart want her to say yes. The veils of self-preservation around her freshly-wounded mind tell her icily that Rachel Berry is the reason for every single trouble in her life, starting with the scandalous pregnancy back in sophomore year. It makes her head hurt and her heart ache, the two separate things that her body wants, but there's a little voice at the back of her head that tells her that if this is what Jesse needs, then she needs it, too.

So she nods and turns her head, eyes speaking volumes to Rachel. The dark-haired girl cautiously goes to the pair and runs her hands down Jesse's chest, too, meeting Quinn's paler ones on his belt buckle. "Oh, I'm gonna bruise you…" Rachel hums, and then looks down as she finishes. "Oh, you're gonna be my bruise." And then it's like something clicks because, _oh. _

This isn't Rachel Berry, queen of the gleeks. This is _Rachel, _who wore a sparkling skirt and drank red wine at a party and who quoted Shakespeare at her after their first time together and who baked her cookies when she got hurt and who made a trail of hickey's down one side of her while Jesse marked the other and they met in the middle, kissing over her navel like they'd been starved for years.

The revelation nearly causes her to physically reel, because everything she's been suppressing for the past however long -all the want and lust and love and need- is gushing back quickly and she twists around to grab Rachel by the hair and pull her close, biting her lip before she licks her way into the other girl's mouth, shifting off of Jesse's lap as she knocks Rachel onto the couch and straddles her hips, sucking and biting her way down a tanned throat, ripping open her black blouse and kissing the skin exposed.

Jesse moans, almost delirious with relief, but neither of them watch the way Rachel's face twists delicately or how a tear slips down from her brown eyes. And then she lets her body take over, moaning and arching into Quinn's touch. And Jesse watches them, so happy he could cry, in spite of this horrible news, because it's gonna be all right.

Just from watching them, from watching Quinn bite and kiss and grind with Rachel, he finds himself shaking, eyes rolling back into his head as his body convulses. Rachel cries out a second before that, half-sobbing Quinn's name.

And Quinn just curls up with them both, pressing cold toes to Jesse's denim-covered thighs. They fall asleep quickly; Rachel stays awake. And she's agonizing. Because oh, she wants Quinn, she wants Quinn to love her again.

She doesn't want Quinn to have to pretend for Jesse's sake.

**I Don't Love You- My Chemical Romance  
Run- Snow Patrol  
We Are Broken- Paramore  
Lightness- Death Cab for Cutie  
Touch Me- Spring Awakening  
The Kids Are All Fucked Up- Cobra Starship**


	9. Chapter 9

**Dance In The Dark  
Part Nine of So Happy I Could Die**

Jesse stood there with his mouth twisted into a prideful smirk, head held high even as his father's fist swung into it. After it connected, he spat out a mouthful of blood, mindful to do it on the hardwood so his mother could clean it up easier. And he still smirked, eyes glowing half-manically. "Is that all you have?" He was answered by another strike to the face, and a hit to his chest that he was careful to half-dodge under his baggy sweater so it hit him below the ribs. It knocked the wind out of him, but at least there would be no potential damage to his lungs or his voice.

He knew his lip would be split, probably bleeding, and Vocal Adrenaline practice would be a bitch tomorrow, but whatever. If his father was hitting him, then he wasn't hitting his mother. And Jesse was a man- fifteen years old. He was a man, he could take this.

And then, he was startled out of his flashbacks by Rachel's hand holding his tightly. Quinn held his other one, and he squeezed them both. The plane was landing. The plane was landing, and he was going to have to get _out _and _go. _Go to his mother's funeral, to face his father again, to try to make it through this weekend.

He brought their hands up to his mouth to lay a kiss on both sets of knuckles. As they disembarked from the plane, they got a few curious looks. Lima Airport wasn't anything much, and they had just gotten off of a tiny plane prone to turbulence after connecting in Columbus. This place was more like a hangar than an actual airport.

It was Saturday- Duncan had needed at least Rachel to perform Friday, and then given them both a weekend break. In two hours, they were going to be watching some preacher talk about his mother, in a few hours after that, they were going to be watching strangers put his mother in the ground in a box.

Two hours went by very quickly. It was only a thirty minute drive from Lima to Carmel County, and there were already people in the house when he arrived. He was a head taller than most in his dark, sober suit, and Rachel and Quinn hadn't let go of his hands until they got onto the porch. And then it was necessary, to keep up appearances.

Everyone had fallen silent as soon as they'd walked into the door and his father was nowhere to be seen. That surprised him- Mr. St. James usually always was careful to keep up appearances of being a loving husband and father. Just using the words 'loving' and 'father' in a sentence when regarding the man made Jesse want to break into hysterical laughter. He didn't, though- it would scare Quinn and Rachel. He had to shelter them from this. Rachel knew about his father, but Quinn didn't. And he couldn't put anymore strain on Quinn right now. She had just come back to them.

His Aunt and Uncle were sitting next to the… casket… and Jessamine rose when she spotted him, hurrying over to wrap her arms around her only nephew. She dissolved into tears, and he gently wrapped his arms around her in return. It seemed like a second later that the preacher was walking into the room and ushering everyone to sit, for the service.

He tried not to listen to this stranger talk about how wonderful of a Christian woman his mother had been -Ophelia St. James had been a lifelong atheist- and how she was leaving behind a loving husband -who had beat her every other night for years- and how God -who she didn't believe existed- would shepherd her to Heaven.

He concentrated on the truly hideous spray of flowers on the closed casket-top. He concentrated on his mother's favorite painting, a Degas copy picturing four blue-clad ballerinas, hanging on the wall. He resolutely did not listen to the preacher who was spewing lies, or the presence of his _father_ across the aisle of chairs.

He needed a cigarette. He needed some whiskey. He needed his mother to be alive. He needed to get the fuck out of here before he had to say a word to his father. He _needed_. Rachel reached out halfway through the service to take his hand, gripping it so tight her knuckles turned white. He was too numb to feel it properly, but he realized that her breathing had gone very shallow. He followed her gaze, and it was leveled on the back of the room.

There, in the back row, was an older woman who was distinguished from the crowd of faceless mourners by her exotic brown eyes, long dark locks, and prominent nose. She had a small child with her. The little girl had golden hair and, visible even from where Jesse sat, piercing green eyes.

Shelby Corcoran raised her eyes from her lap to meet his.

**All That's Known- Spring Awakening  
Hum Hallelujah- Fall Out Boy  
Silver and Cold- AFI  
Sarah Smiles- Panic! At The Disco  
Shake It Out- Manchester Orchestra**


	10. Chapter 10

**(Hurricane) The Formal Weather Pattern  
Part Ten of So Happy I Could Die**

He choked slightly in shock as he met her gaze, and turned back around quickly, ripping his hand from Rachel's in favor of curling his hands into fists on his knees, so tight that he could feel something wet -blood- pooling at his fingertips. Quinn had gone completely blank-faced once she'd seen Beth, and the service was being wrapped up.

He stood and fled. Rachel watched him go, and then turned around at the sound of someone clearing their throat. There stood a man with dark hair and a lined face. His jaw was set tight and she drew up to her fullest height in response, thanking God that she'd worn her tallest stilettos. "Hello, Mr. St. James," She greeted the man stonily. She didn't fail to notice, as she did every time that she'd been around him, that his gaze went from her nose to her Star of David and then back up to her eyes.

"My wife may have put up with my son toiling about with some tawdry Jewess whore, but I will do no such thing. You do me wrong by thinking that I would allow your presence in my home, girl." He spoke quietly so no one would hear, but his words were a hiss and slightly slurred, despite his impressive vocabulary.

She simply raised her chin higher and forced herself to stay calm. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. St. James. However, I am unable to acquiesce to your request of my departure. I am here for your son, and I will not leave unless he is to tell me that I am not wanted. Now, may I suggest that you go back to drinking your scotch, Mr. St. James, instead of attempting to intimidate young women?" Her voice carried a lilt of contempt in it, and he spluttered for a moment before stalking off.

Quinn, standing mere feet away, was wide-eyed at the man's speech and demeanor. Rachel seemed unaffected, and she strode over to the blonde confidently, steering her over to where Jesse had disappeared with a hand on her elbow and a softly spoken word. They had come upon the hall bathroom, and Rachel knocked three times gently. The door unlocked, and she gave Quinn a little push towards it. "Make sure he's okay. I will field the mourners." She murmured to the other girl.

She actually had no intention of doing so. She walked into the kitchen, knowing that Shelby would follow her. And so she did. Rachel stood with her hands firmly grasping the counter for a few moments, staring at the wall to collect herself. She turned- the little girl, Beth, looked so much like Quinn it was almost frightening, but without Quinn's brown eyes. No, this child was very much green-eyed, with a slightly darker complexion than Quinn's. That helped to distinguish her as a Puckerman.

No, no, she was a _Corcoran, _and Rachel was apparently not worthy of that title. "Shelby," She deadpanned frostily. Shelby tried to offer her a smile, but it ended up a strained flinch.

"I saw you sing… I sat in the back, but. You were so wonderful, Rachel," She said shakily, trying to power through Rachel's chilly gaze.

"I don't know what you are trying to accomplish here, Shelby. I really... I just, I _don't_," She said, her voice breaking and a few tears streaming down her cheeks. And then she hurried past the older woman, past her _mother, _and was stopped briefly by Jessamine.

"I- please, can you tell Jesse and Quinn that I had to go? And I'm sorry? I'm sorry," She repeated, hurrying out into the crisp afternoon air. It was lightly raining, the droplets falling onto her bare arms. She'd left her coat inside. But she had her purse, and her phone, so she called a cab that arrived in minutes.

"Where to, ma'am?" The cabbie asked, and she leant forward until her forehead was resting on her knees.

"Anywhere. Just, get me out of here, please?" She managed to instruct, and he shrugged and peeled out.

**Helena- My Chemical Romance  
Mama Who Bore Me- Spring Awakening  
One of THOSE Nights- The Cab**


	11. Chapter 11

**Bulletproof Heart  
Part Eleven of So Happy I Could Die**

Tattoos hurt less than Rachel would have thought. She sat cross-legged in the chair, right arm out so that the tattoo artist could ink her wrist. Green ink twisted vines around two words. _I Believe. _She looked upon it with dark eyes as the tattoo artist started explaining how to clean it and care for it.

_She's fourteen years old, and Quinn Fabray has drawn more pornographic pictures of her on the bathroom stalls. She's fourteen years old, and last night she had her fourth pornographic dream about Quinn Fabray, with her perfect Cupid's bow lips and Botticelli face. She's fourteen years old, and she knows in her heart that if life doesn't start looking up, she doesn't know what she'll do. _

Her phone is buzzing again. She glances at it. _Quinn. _She leaves it. She gets outside again, wrapping her bare arms around herself, and checks her phone. _32 missed calls. 21 new messages. _And twenty minutes until her flight.

Columbus is drizzly. It's fitting. She tilts her head to the sky and lets the raindrops kiss her face. She doesn't close her eyes, she lets the water drip and fall as it may. "A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now," She hums.

She really just wants to scream. She wants to stop it, she wants to stop the rush of _everything _that is just too much. She hasn't felt anything properly in a while, and it seems like that small miracle is struck down tenfold, the perfect-painted scenery yanked away to reveal an apocalypse.

_Jesse kisses her harder than anyone's ever kissed her in her entire life and practically slams her against the bathroom door. She's been awake for three days- he's been awake for longer. The thrum of sings in her veins and she lets him bend her however he wants. _

_ It's like he's trying to make them into one person -not the usual way, but close- like he's trying to make her feel everything. _

_ She feels everything._

Her phone buzzes again. _Jesse. _With shaking hands, she presses the green button. "H-hello?" Her voice sounds like she's been gargling rusty nails and she winces at the sound that she wishes she wasn't capable of making.

"Rachel, are you okay?" Jesse sounds… Jesse sounds _quiet._ Jesse sounds _defeated. _Jesse sounds _beautiful, _because Jesse _is _beautiful. She hears Quinn in the background and her face crumples. Her hand goes to her face and she presses for a moment, ready to _suppress, suppress, suppress, _and then she pulls her hand away and just bawls. "Rachel," Jesse says. There's a rustle on the other end of the phone and Rachel is leaning against the front of a coffee shop, and she's bawling and her wrist itches and the rain is coming down harder now.

"Rachel, I love you," Quinn's sweet-as-honey voice fills her ears. Rachel's sobs slow down, but don't fade completely at that.

"I want to come home," Rachel hiccups, wiping at her eyes like a little girl, and she can practically feel Quinn's shoulders sag in relief.

She turns and her arm goes up, flagging down a cab.

**I Believe- Spring Awakening Cast  
American Slang- Gaslight Anthem  
I Feel Pretty/Unpretty- Glee Cast  
The Kids From Yesterday- My Chemical Romance  
Helena Beat- Foster the People  
All I Ever Wanted- The Airborne Toxic Event**


End file.
